Linked
by Viwiel Singollo
Summary: Neither knew who the other was, but they were linked through their dreams.
1. Vivid

**Title:** _Linked_

**Fandoms:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Buffy _Summers_), King Arthur (_Lancelot_)

**Summary: **Neither knew who the other was, but they were linked through their dreams.

**Disclaimer:** I don't have a claim on either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or King Arthur.

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><p><em><strong>Vivid<strong>_

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><p>Sometimes she would dream. Those weren't normal dreams nor were they the prophetic kind she got nowadays.<p>

No, these had started way before those; she had been just a child when she'd had her first dream of this kind.

These were vivid, Technicolor dreams where she sensed everything and forgot there was anything else.

.

In her dreams there were brave and broken men, trying to do the right thing; men lost in themselves.

She dreamed of endless green fields, and forests so deep and dark that you could easily get lost in them without taking a single step.

.

Most of all, she dreamed of him. A loyal man with shattered beliefs. Joking to hide the pain; the absence in the place of hope.

So cynical and hardened by life that it made her want to cry for him, a man who certainly wouldn't want someone to shed tears for him.

In her dreams she couldn't but stand and watch- forever watching from the sidelines. She was there for all of it; she was there as he fought, loved, and drank his way through life.

.

Considering what and who she was, she couldn't help but admire how fiercely he fought; twin swords dancing as he made his way through his enemies.

Often he was victorious, but there were times when he didn't walk away off unscathed.

When his friends couldn't watch his back, she would always try to warn him of enemy steel behind his back, but no matter how hard she tried, he didn't see her, couldn't hear her warnings.

.

Once, when he was laying on a bed with his side sliced open, delirious with fever, she thought he could see her there, standing by his bedside.

He had looked in her direction, he'd even lifted his hand like trying to reach her hand. He had opened his mouth to say something but then the healer had come in, giving him something that had made him sink into slumber.

.

When awake, she would wonder who he was, where he was. Often she daydreamed of what would happen if they met, but just as often the real life crashed in and broke her reverie.

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><p><strong>AN:** Opinions?


	2. Obscure

**Summary: **Neither knew who the other was, but they were linked through their dreams.

**Disclaimer:** I don't have a claim on either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or King Arthur.

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><p><em><strong>Obscure<strong>_

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><p>When he had been younger he had often dreamed of home, the grass-filled fields of Sarmatia. Later the dreams had slowly diminished.<p>

Now, however, in his fever-ridden mind he was back there years later, surrounded by an ocean of green waves.

.

In slow motion he turned around, taking in his surroundings. He had made almost a full circle before he saw her.

She was standing there, a familiar figure dressed in the same thin white dress that went flowing along the wind as did her long and wavy, golden mass of hair.

She was watching him quietly. When their eyes connected, her lips curled into a soft smile.

.

"Hello, there," she greeted him with a light nod of her head.

"Who are you?" he scrunched up his forehead. "I have seen you before - in these dreams."

"You have," she confirmed, not elaborating how or why she appeared in his dreams. "Don't worry; I'm a friend," she smiled, as if something about what she had said, amused her.

"And whose friend are you?" he asked, tilting his head, smirk playing on his lips.

"Yours, of course. Have been for a long time now," she said with seriousness that took away his amusement.

.

After that exchange silence took over as they just stood there, just studying each other. For some reason he didn't feel the need to question what she had meant by her statement.

His thoughts started to drift and he found himself thinking about his approaching freedom.

He wondered if his family would still be there, waiting for him, when he finally made his way back home to Sarmatia.

Even if they were, it wouldn't be easy to go there and try to reconnect with them. It had been so long ago when he had been forced to leave his home for this cold and unwelcoming land far away – way beyond the realm of a little boy's comprehension.

"You know, there's a war coming," her voice broke his chain of thought.

"Coming? We're already fighting a war!" his voice rose with the sudden anger that seemed to come out of nowhere. He became angry at this woman who succeeded in belittling the fight he and his brothers in arms fought on nearly daily basis, risking their lives time and time again.

And she had done it with only a single sentence. A war was coming, indeed.

Her expression hadn't changed by his abrupt outburst. "There's a difference between battles and war," she reminded him calmly.

"You have to get ready," her voice took a faraway note. "_The eagle won't help or protect you when the bear comes advancing,_" as soon as it came it was gone again and her voice sounded normal once more.

Suddenly she grimaced, "I hate receiving this cryptic crap and spouting it to someone else isn't that much of an improvement," she grumbled – to herself, or so he assumed.

.

She shook her head lightly, "Anyway, it will be up to Snow White and the seven dwarves to save the kingdom."

He felt confused, "Who is this Snow White you're speaking of? And seven dwarves..?"

"She is the pretty girl who'll be the queen one day," she smiled, making the corners of her eyes crinkle.

"And the seven dwarves, well… You'll understand it all when the time is right," she promised, "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you right now."

His brows furrowed and his mind whirled as he attempted to make sense of her obscure warnings. He was quite confident he got the eagle part right, it had to refer to Rome.

But if it did – no, that did not make sense. Why wouldn't the Imperium defend its conquests?

He was trying to figure out who was the bear she mentioned, when he noticed her tilt of head.

She looked like she was listening to something he couldn't hear; Tristan did that more than enough for him to recognize it.

"My time here is running out, I have to go," she told him once she was done listening to what ever, or perhaps he should say who ever, it was that only she could hear.

"Who _are_ you?" he repeated his earlier question.

"Someone who has been through plenty of battles and wars," she gave him a sad half-smile. "I know it's hard and you will lose people close to you, but with your friends you can survive if you fight together," she sounded resolute.

He was surprised by her when she reached to hug him and press a kiss on his cheek.

"Just be careful, okay?"

He could but nod as she released her hands from where they had been resting on his chest and arm. Immediately once the contact was gone she started to fade away from his sight.

He saw her lips move, but her voice came a beat later. She was already gone when her words reached his ears.

It sounded like it was coming from far away when her last promise echoed around in the dreamscape, _"Don't worry, we'll meet again. Good luck…"  
>.<em>

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><p><strong>AN: **As these were written in the middle of the night and posted right away, I don't know how much typos and everything else fun these contain, so please, tell me if you spot something less than logical. And as always, nothing would please me more than hearing what you think of my little creations.


	3. Elegant

**Summary**: She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

**Disclaimer:**I have no claim to either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or King Arthur.

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><p><strong>Elegant<strong>

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><p>When he opened his eyes, he was standing in the middle of a large room unlike anything he had ever seen in the real world. Soft light from candles all around illuminated it, casting shadows here and there. He looked around the room his eyes opened wide. There were small round tables near one of the walls with two chairs at each of them. On the tables were candles, and flowers in vases.<p>

When he looked up, he saw the room had an unbelievably high ceiling. Heavy-looking drapes were framing the equally high windows that were on one side of the room.

The windows lured him closer, and as he went to take a look he could see it was night time. He saw a garden outside, bathing in faint moonlight. Turning away, his own reflection caught his attention when he saw it from the corner of his eye. He looked back at it, focusing on it. He was dressed in very odd clothes. He wondered how he hadn't noticed them before.

He was inspecting the black jacket he found himself wearing, when a clicking sound drew his attention away from it. He turned around, towards the sound, only to see a very familiar figure walking his way. He supposed he should have expected to see _her_. She was getting more and more frequent visitor in his dreams.

She was wearing a long blue dress that reflected the light of the candles dimly, and it was the shoes that added inches to her height that were making the clicking sound. He didn't remember ever seeing another woman as beautiful as she was.

She was still walking to him when music started to play. A gentle tune enveloped the entire room, coming from no apparent source. She reached him and looking to his eyes smiled to him. He duplicated the expression back at her.

Without any words she extended her hand to him. He answered by taking her hand in his own. Without a conscious thought to do so, he noticed himself leading her to dance. It was like he was fulfilling someone else's will.

He pulled her close to him, placing his free hand on his waist. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the silk of the dress.

His sense of time was dulled, keeping track on it seemed unimportant. He had no idea how long they swayed there. Sometimes the music changed, but otherwise he had no knowledge of the passing of time.

The music paused for a minute and they stopped with it. He looked her in the eyes. She had green eyes. He didn't think he'd ever paid any attention to the colour of them. The music started again, but neither one of them reacted to it any way. He studied her face and when his eyes lowered to her lips, he was was enthralled by how enticing they looked. He glanced back to her eyes, they both leaned closer, his arms wrapped around her waist on their own volition, pulling her closer, and hers making their way to behind his neck.

Their lips were half an inch from touching when he was yanked from his dream. He woke up next to another woman, someone he barely knew – someone he didn't even wish to know. He was in a bad mood for the whole day. His fellow knights were getting used to his mood swings that came seemingly out of nowhere, and while there were only a few remarks about it, they noticed.


	4. Gruesome

The **disclaimer **from previous chapters holds true for this one as well

**Summary:** It was darkness and death, blood and burning flesh.  
><strong>Warnings: M<strong>, because like one can deduce from the title and the summary, the chapter is shades darker than others and deals with a lot of death.

**A/N:** Like you can see, I finally got around posting a new chapter. For this chapter, I want to note how hard it was to find someone from the Celtic myths to compare to angels.

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><p><strong>Gruesome<strong>

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><p>Unlike the last time she had one of the dreams, this time it wasn't anything like that one had been. This one was nowhere near light or calm.<p>

This time it was all darkness. It was blood-splattered fields with corpses littered upon them. It was anguished screams and pained moans echoing in the smoke-filled air that reeked of burning flesh.

As she looked around she saw a flock of black birds that circled above it all, barely visible on the dark sky. Some of them were landing on the field and tearing off whatever they could of the older bodies in their hunger. Sometimes they fed, or at least tried to feed, on those who had died more recently or even the living. It didn't seem to matter to them if what they fed on were living or dead as long as they didn't move. Times of battles were like feasts to them and all the other scavengers.

Almost without noticing it, she had started to wander on the previously grass-covered field among the bodies. The hooves of the horses had broken the surface of the moist ground and mud had replaced the green grass that had been there previously. Only small tufts of green could be seen there, scattered few and far between.

As she was navigating between the bodies of men and horses, the sudden revelation that she was trying to find someone came to her. However, it didn't occur to her was to stop to think _who_ she was looking for, or even _why_; she just knew _she __had to find them_.

Were it not a dream, the hem of her white dress would be heavy with a combination of mud and blood by now, but as it was, the fabric remained unnaturally white and unmarred.

She barely noticed when some of the dying men saw her and tried to reach for her, only to grasp thin air as their hands passed through her form. She didn't know what a comforting picture she presented to the dying men in her white dress, gliding through the battle field with a gentle glow surrounding her. Depending on their beliefs, those men thought she was either Arianrhod, the goddess of life, death and reincarnation, there to gather the souls of warriors and take them to the Moonland, or an angel coming to take them to the heavenly kingdom. Without knowing it, she was bringing peace to the dying who knew upon seeing her that their souls would be taken care of.

She felt a pull and followed it to the middle of the field. There, on the ground, was lying the one she had been seeking without consciously realizing it was him she was looking for. His twin swords laid next to him, one still loosely grasped in his hand.

After a screamed plea for somebody, _anybody_, to come to help she realized nobody could hear her and dropped on her knees next to his body, feeling utterly powerless as she did. Why was she here if she couldn't help him in any way? Was this some kind of sick joke by the Powers, designed to eventually break her? It wasn't like her life was too easy otherwise.

She could see blood soaking the fabric around his arm and some blood trickling down next to his hairline. What eased her mind was his steady breathing and the strong heartbeat of his that she could hear with her advanced hearing.

She didn't know how long she sat there, next to his unconscious body – hours if she had to guess. At one point she noticed she'd started to hum the soft tunes of the lullaby her mother had sang to her when she had been just a little girl. The dawn was rising when two men she recognized as his friends came. She oversaw as they lifted him on a makeshift stretcher and she sighed with relief – he would be taken care of.

When she was about to follow them, the world turned black before her eyes and she knew no more. Hours later she woke up in her own bed. When Willow asked her if she'd had any dreams she couldn't recall any.


	5. Faint

**Disclaimer **holds true.

**Summary:** He thought he heard someone humming to him. (A companion piece to Gruesome.)

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><p><strong>Faint<strong>

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><p>"Who was the woman?" Lancelot asked as he was putting on his shirt. He was finally being released from the <em>tender<em> care of their healer and Gawain had brought him some of his own clothes to wear.

"What woman? The one who brought the flowers?" It took Gawain a moment to figure who Lancelot must have meant. "Her name is Alice. I suppose it'd be too much of hardship for you to remember all the lasses you fool around with," he continued, his voice more amused than anything else.

"I know her name is Alice. It's not her I'm talking about. I'm talking about the one who I heard humming when I was unconscious," Lancelot corrected.

"There was no-one with you. Although, Galahad was by your bedside while I was getting the healer to fix you. Never would have pegged him for one to hum, nor one to sound like a woman whilst doing it," Gawain tried to lighten the atmosphere.

"It wasn't him. It was a woman," Lancelot stated with absolute certainty. "You can't seriously think I can't tell the difference," he scowled at his friend. "Besides, I was conscious for a minute when you carried me, and she was there before it."

"It's not possible; you were in the middle of a battle field. There were no women there. Lancelot, you were unconscious and you probably hit your head at some point. It could be something your mind just made up."

"No," he denied. "No," he repeated, quieter this time. He shook his head. There had been someone there, someone he knew; she had sounded familiar from somewhere. He just couldn't remember where that was.


	6. Glowing

**Title:** _**Linked**_

**Fandoms:** Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Buffy _Summers_), King Arthur (_Lancelot_)

**Summary: **Neither knew who the other was, but they were linked through their dreams. _**Glowing****;**_ They didn't speak of it afterwards.

**Disclaimer:** I don't have a claim on either Buffy the Vampire Slayer or King Arthur.

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><p><strong>Glowing<strong>

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><p>He and Tristan had been scouting ahead of the rest of their group. Normally Tristan would have went alone, but Lancelot had been feeling restless and needed something other besides mindless riding to get rid of it.<p>

The two of them had been riding in a faster pace, paying close attention to their surroundings in case the Woads were to try ambushing the Knights. There had been no words passing between them, not since they had departed from the rest of the company. It was partly because they didn't want to alert the possible hostile natives around to their presence, but no less was it because neither one of them was feeling particularly chatty.

Suddenly, out of nowhere there was a woman standing on the path in front of their horses with her hands raised, demanding with her body language them to stop. Surprised, Lancelot came to pull the reins a little too hard, making the grey mare bristle and stomp her hooves in an obviously annoyed fashion.

He had no problems recognizing the woman's faintly glowing form, but what had taken him by surprise was seeing her when he was awake – at least he thought he was. This far he had always been able to tell when he was in one of _the dreams, _as he'd come to think of them.

He glanced at Tristan at his side. To his surprise, the scout had stopped as well and was staring at the woman with narrowed eyes. It was as if he could see her, but occasionally lost the sight of her, his eyes searching before focusing again. That was definitely new.

She saw she got their attention and lifted her finger to her lips in a silent command not to make any sounds. He turned his head to look at Tristan, who eyed the woman before looking at him. Lancelot nodded curtly to Tristan. Whether this was a dream or some kind of a new twist that made it possible for him to see her in the waking world, they'd better obey. She had never shown any signs of wishing him harm, quite the contrary.

She got an approving glint in her eye and nodded. Wordlessly she gestured them to follow, taking off southwest from their current position. They followed her with Lancelot in the lead as his observation seemed to hold true, whereas Tristan couldn't see her all the time. She was faster than one would have expected, twisting around different obstacles so quickly that he and Tristan were forced to urge their mounts into faster trotting to keep up with her. Thankfully, the gentle glow she emitted made it easy for them to follow her in the darkened woods.

They could tell she was leading them back on the track, circling so back to where they would be riding had she not intercepted. They were almost on it when she slowed down and signalled them to be quiet again. When they got up on slightly higher ground she lead them, they could see there were what must have been closer to thirty Woads camped out there.

They retreated back the way they had come from, this time making even a bigger effort to avoid causing any sounds that would have stood out from the general noise of the woods. It was a miracle they had went undetected as it was.

They were out of earshot and close enough their original location when she stopped, prompting them to follow her lead. Apparently she had done what she had come there for because she faced them with a smile and a wave of her had she disappeared with a slightly brighter flash of light.

They tracked back to the group and when the others praised their luck, they kept quiet. Neither of them ever opened their mouths about what had really happened and what they'd seen. They didn't speak of it, not to each other, and certainly not to the others.

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><p>Any feedback's most welcome...<p> 


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